


while they do dream things true

by greywardenblue



Series: polished with friction [7]
Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Arden Windermere makes a cameo, Dean Lorden is there too, Gen, Post-Book 14: A Killing Frost, Quentin Sollys for a bit, Simon Torquill has so many children, Tybalt makes some snarky comments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywardenblue/pseuds/greywardenblue
Summary: Toby visits Goldengreen twice, with some happenings in between.
Relationships: Jonathan Daye & October "Toby" Daye, May Daye & Simon Torquill (minor), October "Toby" Daye & Dianda Lorden (minor), October "Toby" Daye & Patrick Lorden (minor), October "Toby" Daye & Simon Torquill
Series: polished with friction [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455481
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	while they do dream things true

## I.

I wanted to go to Saltmist to look around properly for once, and to see how Simon and August were adjusting. To see the library and the little underwater garden that Patrick and Dianda built for him, and the flowers they planted for her. I wanted to, and I said I would. But without the urgency of someone being either dead or kidnapped, I could not bring myself to do it.

When I called Dianda and told her I wanted to change our plans, she didn’t pry or try to convince me, and I was thankful for that. Goldengreen would have to be enough for now.

“You never visit just for me,” Dean said with a smile that showed he didn’t really mean it.

“I do,” Quentin said.

“Walther says the same thing,” I said, and I did feel a little bad about that. I had so many friends now, and yet most of my social interaction with some of them was relying on them while something was trying to kill me. “We really need to have more parties.”

Dianda surfaced first, with Patrick, Simon and August appearing behind her, along with their entourage. They stepped out of the water, and when I moved closer, Dianda met me halfway and pulled me into a hug. I hugged back, and by the time she let me go, Patrick was standing in line.

He closed his arms around me and I breathed in out of reflex, then hummed. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” he asked, confused.

“I could have sworn your magic signature was cranberries and mayflower,” I said, pulling back with a smile. “But this shirt you’re wearing smells like it’s been drenched in apple cider.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Dianda gasped, swatting Patrick on the arm.

“Patrick! You’re cheating on me?! I can’t believe this. I look away for one moment and you take the first handsome fool to bed.”

Patrick looked halfway between horrified and about to laugh. “It’s not cheating if he’s your husband, too!”

“A fool, he certainly is,” Tybalt murmured next to me. I rolled my eyes, and I didn’t call his bluff. If he wanted to be difficult and hold a grudge, that was his business.

I looked towards the other pair. August seemed mortified, but Simon was watching his spouses with fondness in his eyes. When he saw me looking, he smiled at me hesitantly. I hesitated for a moment, then I walked over and gave him a hug. He squeezed me back, then when I pulled away, my eyes met August’s, and she shook her head with wide eyes. 

Well, okay then. I didn’t want to hug her anyway.

Dean cleared his throat. “If you will follow me, we’ve set up some refreshments,” he said formally. I smiled. At least he was getting some practice in hosting nobility.

  
  


“What an utter miracle, Sir Etienne having a daughter,” Simon said as he settled against Patrick’s side on the couch, looking so lazy and content it was almost a crime. I think we were all glad that those were the only kind of crimes he committed nowadays. “Patrick, you remember Sir Etienne, don’t you? A kind enough man, but a proper stick in the mud, and an utter bore. And now he has a wife and a daughter.”

“Etienne has been completely different since he became a father,” I said. “The last time we met, he even _hugged_ me.”

August dropped her book into her lap, and both Torquills stared at me in shock. That was what made me remember that August would have known Etienne and most of the staff at Shadowed Hills, too.

“Since when does Sir Etienne know what a hug is?” August asked in disbelief.

Simon shook his head in awe. “The last time I saw Etienne, if somebody had tried to hug him, he would have thought they were looking for a weak spot to stab their knife into.”

“Or maybe that’s just you,” Tybalt suggested.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Tybalt. I was quite pleasant back then.”

Tybalt nodded. “A little too pleasant, if you ask me.” 

I elbowed him. “Play nice, boys. I don’t need you two snarking at each other at the wedding.”

“Which is why it’s advisable that we get it out of our system first,” Tybalt said.

“Speak for yourself,” Simon replied. “I have no issue with you, Tybalt.”

Tybalt sneered. “How generous of you.”

“Okay, seriously. You’re sleeping on the couch if you keep that up,” I said. He gave me a wounded look, and I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “We should get going soon. Arden’s schedule is tight enough, she won’t appreciate being kept waiting.”

“You’re seeing Arden today?” Dianda asked. “Give her our greetings.”

“For Quentin’s etiquette lessons, yes. And I will.”

“For Quentin’s what?” Patrick asked in a surprisingly frosty tone, and I looked at him in surprise. I wasn’t really sure what I said wrong that would justify the look on his face. “I thought Quentin was educated at Shadowed Hills. Was he upgraded to the Queen’s Court?” Oh. Oh, oak and ash, I made a horrible mistake.

I exchanged a look with Quentin, who looked more confused than scared, which told me he had no idea what was coming.

“Yes, he was… That is…”

“Is there something wrong with Shadowed Hills?” Patrick pressed.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Patrick,” Simon said calmly, although I could see the tension in his shoulders. He sat up properly and put his hand on Patrick’s. “Let’s finish our farewells. I’m sure October and her friends have places to be.”

“No, I’m curious as well,” Dianda said. She didn’t raise her voice or show any sign of losing her temper. Honestly, that was far scarier than if she had. “What is wrong with the Duchy of Shadowed Hills that it cannot host your squire anymore?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the Duchy of Shadowed Hills,” I said in a hurry. “It is still standing as it has been.” I glanced at Tybalt for backup, but he was stubbornly facing away from me, and that told me that he would not take my side in this fight. The jerk.

“Something wrong with its liege, then?” Dianda asked in the same tone.

“Other than the fact that he let his wife exile us from the knowe?” Quentin murmured. I gasped, but it was far too late. Patrick’s face darkened.

“I’m going to kill him,” he announced.

“No, you will not!” Simon protested. “You will not raise a hand to my brother, that will not solve anything--”

“Do you hear yourself, Simon?” Patrick turned on his husband, his hands shaking in fury. This time, he did raise his voice, and I cursed inwardly. “After how he’s treated you for all those years? After all of that, you’re telling me to stand by while he mistreats October as well?” Patrick was standing now, half-pulling Simon up from the couch as the other man clung to his arm and tried to pull him to sit back down. “That man had the chance to be her father the way you never did, _we_ never did, and he _threw it away_!”

I watched, speechless as Patrick ranted furiously and Simon tried to talk him down, and Dianda looked like she was quietly counting how many ways she knows to dismember a person. Tybalt was still silent, but he leaned in to kiss my forehead, and I understood. Patrick was arguing with Simon and Tybalt didn’t back me up because they loved us, and they thought we deserved better, even when we didn’t believe that.

I buried my face in my hands.

  
  
  
  
  


“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” Quentin said.

“You’ve been in a room with two Firstborn having a fight,” I said.

Quentin frowned. “When was that?”

“Uh, in the Duchy of Ships? Did you forget that already?”

“Oh, that.” Quentin shrugged. “Well, one of them was the Luidaeg, and the other one already made it clear by then that she liked Dean and thought the Lordens were cool, and they weren’t fighting. So yeah, I do think a _slight disagreement_ between two _friendly Firstborn_ is less scary than Patrick Lorden looking like he’s about to strangle someone with his bare hands. He’s supposed to leave the strangling to Dianda!”

Quietly, I agreed with him. Dianda’s fury was terrifying, but predictable. She pretty much always thought punching people was the right answer. Patrick was more dangerous than he looked, because you never knew when he was going to stop her, and when he was going to step aside and let her on her way.

But Patrick shaking in fury, and Dianda standing eerily still? That was easily one of the scariest things I could imagine. 

Arden stepped out of the room. “Well, that was fun.”

“Did they calm down?” I asked.

Arden shook her head. “Calm? No. But I told them that if they actually tried to attack a Duke who swears fealty to me, I would be forced to take that as a threat of war, which would be uncomfortable for both of us and would go against Dianda’s promise of alliance. So I don’t think they’re going to rush off and commit murder.”

“I appreciate you coming to pick us up,” I said weakly.

“To break up the fight,” Tybalt amended. “I would have handled the journey.”

Arden scowled at him. “But you couldn’t handle breaking up the fight?”

Tybalt smiled at her sweetly. “I could have. But I wasn’t going to.”

Arden shook her head. “Well, either way, it was nice to see Dianda and Patrick for a bit. Are you ready to go?”

I nodded.

* * *

## II.

I woke in my own bed, frightened and unable to remember the dream that woke me. All I knew was that it was scary, and I wanted my Mom and Dad.

“Mommy?” I called into the darkness of the room. There was a shape that might have been a chair in daylight, but may have turned into a monster with the lights off. I couldn’t risk getting out of bed. I could hear faint crying from somewhere, but I couldn’t see anything. “Daddy?”

A small night light turned on across the room, and I realized this wasn’t quite my room at all. There was another bed near the wall, and I could see a little girl about my age with silvery red hair. Before I could wonder who she was, a red-headed man walked into the room and sat down beside her on the bed.

“What is it, my sweet? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Papa!” The other little girl threw her arms around him and he squeezed, holding her close and safe and gently caressing her back. She was still crying, but she was quieting down.

“Shh, shh, it’s all right, my sweet. Why don’t you help me tell a story? What do you say? _I feel very weary, my temper is biting, I know I've grown leary and tired of the fighting. I pray every day that is all will be grand, but I sure could use help of your kind, friendly hand_ …”

The little girl sniffled a bit longer, then she joined the song with her own soft voice. As I watched the two of them, my chest ached so hard and I felt so jealous that I could barely breathe, and I didn’t know why. They didn’t seem to notice I was there at all. Like I didn’t even exist for them.

It took me a while to hear the crying again, this time in a different voice. This time when I turned, my own father was sitting on the bed next to me, burying his face in his hands and sobbing his heart out.

His hands and face were black with soot, like he ran into a fire to dig through the ashes. I didn’t realize how unlikely that was - I’ve had dreams of him like this so many times, my young mind filling in the blanks of the story.

“Daddy?”

He looked up at the voice, like he was noticing me for the first time. “October?” he asked, and his voice was so broken that tears gathered in my eyes. “Is that you? Have you come back to me?”

“I…” I wanted to say that I was here, that I never left, of course I was here and I was his. But the words wouldn’t come to my mouth. Something was wrong. But how could that be? I was here, wasn’t I?

“October,” my father whispered my name like I was the most precious thing in the world. “My little girl. Come home to me.” 

He reached out for me and I let him pull me close, taking in his so familiar scent despite the unease in my stomach. Something about the scene wasn’t right. There was something I was forgetting, something I’d be losing if I stayed here with Daddy.

For just a moment, I thought of emerald green, and then it hit me. I was here. I was true. I was alive.

But my father was not.

“October…”

“No,” I said, pulling away from him. “No. No, I’m sorry, Daddy, but I can’t. No, I can’t. I can’t grow old, I can’t die yet, I can’t leave everyone, I have so much to do…” Humans lived such short, fragile lives, and all my family was immortal. I would be leaving them behind if I made this choice.

“October, please.” He was begging me now, and I had to close my eyes and will him to go away. Go away. You’re not real. Go away.

“October?”

I opened my eyes again. The red-headed man from the other bed came over to sit next to me. My father and the little girl with the silvery hair were nowhere to be seen.

“Who are you?” I asked, confused. I felt like I should know him, but… “Papa?” The word slipped out, and I wanted to take it back. No, my father has just gone. This man wasn’t my father. Or was he?

“October,” he said gently, taking my hand in his. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“You’re not my father,” I told him.

He smiled sadly, and I felt guilty, knowing that I hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him. He loved me, didn’t he?

“I couldn’t go with him,” I said quietly. “I couldn’t go with my Daddy. I… I know that if I did, I’d be losing too much. I can’t remember what, but I know it. Does that mean I have to go with you?”

“The woman who bore me was human,” he said gently, his big hands so warm around my tiny ones. “She carried me, and loved me, and fed me. But my faerie mother loved me, too. And so did my father. They embraced me and my siblings and we were passed from arm to arm, in overflowing love.” He reached out to touch my face. “You’re yourself, October. May you never, ever be ashamed of where you came from. May you never think being human is a weakness.”

I remembered something somebody else told me. A woman I loved who loved me, although I couldn’t remember her name. “Being human can be a strength,” I said. “Humans can use iron. You need iron to…” To what? My hands suddenly felt weird, and as I looked down, in the light they almost looked red. 

The man said nothing, but he covered my hands completely so I wouldn’t see them. “You don’t have to choose,” he said. “My mothers loved me both, fae and human, and I loved them both back. You don’t have to give up anything to come with me.”

He was lying. I don’t think he was doing it on purpose: I think he thought he was telling the truth. But I still felt like he was lying.

“Not this time,” I added, and that felt a bit more true. I could accept that. Maybe it would be time eventually, but not yet.

“Are you ready to go?” asked Simon, my father in the eyes of Faerie, and the father of my sister. My second father who loved me just like the first, even if I never knew him when I was this young.

“Not yet,” I said. “Can you…” I hesitated for a moment. “Can you sing me a story?”

He smiled. “Of course, my sweet.”

I lay down in the bed and he sat next to me, his fingers playing with my hair as he sang me to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Toby! Wake up already!”

I opened my eyes. August was glaring at me.

“Finally! Why are you fighting me so _hard_ when I’m trying to help you?!”

My hand went to my ears, and then to grab a bunch of hair and pull it in front of my eyes. I took a deep, relieved breath.

I must have been the only changeling in Faerie who made the Choice so many times, and still got to keep both. I knew I was only putting off the inevitable, but for now, this was all right.  
  


* * *

## III.

I already knew that shifting somebody’s blood was different for August than it was for me. Usually when I tried to shift somebody who was unconscious, I got to talk to them in the dream as ourselves. Instead, I got a dream that featured August but she had no knowledge of me, and she had no idea what I was talking about once I woke.

I changed the topic and didn’t give her the details. Nor did I mention it to anyone else until our next Goldengreen visit.

After August’s first official quest with us, we made a silent pact not to tell Simon about the amount of blood. It was a bit too little too late, since he already saw me banging August’s head against a wall, but I really didn’t feel like adding to that.

He was at peace now, to be with his spouses and his daughter, and maybe even a new child eventually, if fate allowed. I envied that more than I could say. I knew Tybalt and I would get there one day, but that would have required me to go nine months without getting stabbed first. That, and the fact that all the teenagers around me have gotten kidnapped at least once didn’t make me very confident about having a baby.

“I remember your words,” Simon told May. “When you said… that I was a good man. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm,” May said.

“And I know that despite your memories, you are not October. You didn’t have to declare a choice, but I want you to know that I would be proud to consider you my daughter all the same.”

May looked at him with wide eyes, then looked at me the same way. I shrugged - this was their moment, and I didn’t want to tell her how to feel about it. She had all my bad memories about Simon, and very few of the good ones outside of my telling of them, and there was that whole thing where Simon almost transformed Jazz into something uncomfortable. Being told something was different from living through it, or at least remembering it.

And I know that despite everything, May once wished Amandine would acknowledge her. I knew she had gotten over it by now - _I_ had gotten over it, at least mostly - but we both remembered it.

Simon cleared his throat awkwardly. “I understand if you would rather not--”

“I’ll think about it,” May said, then turned on her heels and left the room.

  
  
  
  


“We’d better get going,” I said.

Patrick nodded, then said, “Oh, I almost forgot. August wanted to go into town. Could you drive her, please?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Where did she get off to?”

“I’m not sure, but she must be around somewhere.”

“Okay. Can you tell the boys that I’m taking Quentin after I found August?”

Patrick smiled. “Don’t think I don’t see that you’re making me interrupt them so you don’t have to.”

“Guilty as charged.” We hugged, and then I walked off to find August. It helped that I knew my way around, but Goldengreen wasn’t exactly small, so it took some wandering around before I heard the familiar voice.

“ _My colors are faded, my cuffs are both worn, and the seam down the back is all tattered and torn_ …”

It was the same song he sang in the dream to both of us. That meant some of August’s memories must have bled into the scene, even if she claimed she didn’t see it the same way I did. I thought of seeing Simon in his tattered clothes, and how he finally shed them at the wedding as I sneaked up to the half-open door and peeked inside.

They were sitting on the couch, August leaning against Simon’s side, with her head on his shoulder. I didn’t know if she was really asleep or not, but she had her eyes closed and she wasn’t moving much. I watched them, and even though she wasn’t singing back this time, I felt the same heart-wrenching jealousy I did in the dream.

Simon glanced up and saw me, and I seriously considered the advantages of running. He looked surprised to see me, but instead of saying anything, he patted the couch on his other side.

I walked in and sat down, not quite looking at him. He took my hand and continued the song, not stopping for a moment.

“The Luidaeg told me that your mother was human,” I said. August must have really been asleep, because she didn’t stir at my voice. Not like I was shouting or anything.

“This is true,” he said. “I never denied it if I could help it. Only by omission.”

“Was Sylvester…” I didn’t want to ask this question. Our relationship may have been bad at the moment, but I didn’t want to consider that the man who cared for me and stood up for me and made me a knight would think of changeling-borns that way.

And yet he never claimed me as his niece.

“Sylvester loved our mothers,” Simon said when I didn’t continue. “He never thought badly of my human mother, I know this. But he knew that others would. And for a hero, he caved easily.”

“I saw my father when August helped me shift my blood back,” I said a bit too fast. “He wanted me to come back to him and stay, but I couldn’t. Then I saw you, and I thought that was how my brain was processing that this was it, that I would have to choose for real this time. That there was no going back. But you… you told me that I didn’t have to choose. That I didn’t have to give up one to have the other.”

It was about my bloodlines, and it was also about my fathers. The two things didn’t overlap perfectly. My human father was dead, and the only thing I could have given up was his memory. And even if I went full fae to stay with my family, I would still feel like a changeling at heart. I wondered if that was how Chelsea or Gillian felt, or even Arden, who’d always been pureblood but spent more time hiding as a human than most ever did.

“I would never want to replace Jonathan,” Simon said gently. “I never did. But I always hoped that maybe one day, we could meet as family, and you would make space for me beside him.”

I reached up to wipe a tear away from my eyes. “I didn’t even know you were there to leave space for. Nobody ever told me.” I glanced up to meet his gaze. “But I will _make_ some now.”

He smiled.

I glanced at August for a moment, then shifted closer and rested my head on his other shoulder. “Carry on,” I murmured.

For a moment, he was silent, then he started another song I didn’t recognize. “ _I can feel your heart burning with tears that you hide. I will walk without turning ever close by your side_ …” His voice shook a little, but I didn’t mind. Quentin would be thankful to have a little more time with Dean, anyway.

I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many other things to do, but this has been rattling around in my head for a while, so I hope you enjoy.
> 
> The songs are Storyteller and the very beginning of Familiar's Promise by Alexander James Adams: https://alexanderjamesadams1.bandcamp.com/album/a-familiar-promise


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